Nikki looked beautiful. Her hair was curled and tucked loosely into her collar. Her dress poured  over her shoes and past her wrists like a glittering, snowy waterfall. Her Formal Trench Coat was a dazzling white, covering up any remaining skin that was only for Donald to see, later, without the tempted eyes of the rest of the attendants.

And, though I'd deny it to anyone, I had to admit that my scruffy brother cleaned up well. Donald's black tuxedo was crisply ironed, his hair cut and, for once, well managed. His eyes never left Nikki, both of them beaming.

Micheal and John stood behind him, dual best men. Don had originally requested Micheal, but at much protestation from Dad, Mom and John, he consented to let them both stand during the ceremony.

I'd never guess how Donald had managed to placate Mally, even in the slightest. She followed around Jim, the ring-bearer, with a scowl fixed upon her face.

But the best moment was Dad's glare when he saw me standing with the rest of the wedding party. His rejected daughter, one of the reasons he had failed Trujohn, was standing next to his precious son in front of all his colleagues—at least those who hadn't shunned him, or just wanted the free drinks.

Patri Rick Shannon, a young red headed man with a dusting of freckles handed heavy a black Tabpen to Nikki.

They made eye contact, then leaned over the tablet Patri Shannon extended.

Nikki went first. She was the most likely to ruin the wedding, so getting her bit out of the way would save time for the guests should she somehow screw up.

With a shaky hand she lowered the Tabpen to the glowing screen, invisible to all but the small wedding party standing.

Micheal, John and I craned our necks to see. Jim was obliviously tugging at his sleeve, and Donald's eyes were pressed shut.

I could practically hear him begging the Father to let Nikki succeed. If she failed, she'd be forced to take the Mark, yet without a degree to go with it, she'd have no hope of success. I doubted her dad would take her back, and being seen with Don would warrant her arrest for supposed unmarried intercourse.

With trembling hands Nikki moved her Tabpen across the screen. The only sound in the room was the quiet click of plastic on plastic as she drew, and the tapping of Patri Shannon's foot.

He's tapping his foot while holding the screen? Andi complained. How the hell is Nikki supposed draw neatly.

It's probably a test. The Patri knows what he's doing, Ross reminded.

I squinted to check her progress, each unsteady  line fleshing out the Fatherland Crest in orange color.

According to just about every history book I'd ever read, one of the first Fathers, if not the Great Father himself had hand penned our crest. All the way back when everything was written on paper and pens were filled with liquid color, not just wires. From memory and completely by hand, Nikki drew two hands with fingers splayed. Between the thumb and forefinger of either hand stretched a ribbon emblazoned with a brick-like pattern, each rectangle needing to be straight and even. And from the bricks rose a flowing swirl that I'd always believed looked rather like hair, though no one knew exactly what it was meant to be. No one knew for certain what any of the crest meant, but most people assumed it praised the Great Father for building the walls that separated us from the rest of the world, and the walls that separated the rest of the world from itself, thus ending The War.

Nikki stepped back, chewing her lip so feverishly, I was certain she was bleeding. Her gaze flashed to Don, but his eyes remained pressed shut. She relinquished the Tabpen, and the fate of her marriage to the Patri man.

Patri Shannon surveyed the drawing, tapping the Tabpen against his lips.

He deliberated for far longer than I thought necessary; I'd seen the Crest a thousand times and couldn't spot a single flaw.

"Seventy-two," Patri Shannon proclaimed, tapping the screen and erasing Nikki's sketch.

The audience let out a collective breath. All scores above sixty could be passed.

Nikki beamed at Donald. Don simply blinked at her, lips parted in a loose smile. It was his turn.

As Donald took the Tabpen, I studied Nikki. The soon-to-be-bride's brow was furrowed, hands clenched together. Her lips moved rapidly, though made no sound. She seemed to be silently pleading with the Great Father. Though her eyes never left Don's back, her pale face was a mask of panic.

I wondered if she and Donald had practiced together. No doubt. Though Nikki's fear only increased my worry. I couldn't look until Donald stepped away. One glance at his Crest sent my stomach plummeting.

One of the brick shapes was lumpy and uneven. If I could spot the mistake, yet Nikki's seventy-two had appeared perfect, what would Patri Shannon say to my brother?

I stared at everyone around me, hoping my worry wasn't echoed in their faces. Maybe I imagined the mistake?

Mom and Nikki both had tears shinning in their eyes. Dad wore a grimace. Mally and Micheal were making harried eye contact. Donald had turned a sickly shade of green.

Patri Shannon raised his brow at Don, then Nikki. He heaved a sigh. "Sixty-three."

He doesn't deserve no sixty-three, Ross grunted. Shannon's probably just looking to avoid more paper work.

Take it and be grateful, Andi urged.

"So," Patri Shannon continued. "Donald Bennett, do you acknowledge Nicole Wilbur as your wife, accepting your duty to keep her controlled as you both strive to serve the Father."

"By the Father, I swear it." Donald's eyes never wavered from Nikki's, his smile mirroring hers.

"And Nicole Wilbur, do you swear to serve Donald Bennett as is your duty, bearing him a linage and rearing your children in the Great Father's image?"

"By the Father, I swear it."

"Then may the Great Father bless you both. May you be fertile and bountiful. May you and your offspring be assets to our great Fatherland, and may you prove your gratitude to the Father and all Fathers before him everyday." As Patri Shannon finished the blessing, Jim handed Don the rings.

Never breaking eye contact with his new wife, Donald slid the golden band onto her finger, claiming her as his own. Then he placed a second ring onto his own finger, accepting Nikki into his home and future.

"Congratulations, Donald Bennett," Patri Shannon announced, placing Nikki's hand in Don's. "Nikki Bennett is now and for the foreseeable future, your loyal wife until whatever point you cease to find satisfaction in her."

There was no applause louder than Mom's in the audience, though no smile prouder than Dad's. While he hadn't looked at me once during the ceremony, he clapped his hand over Don's shoulder. "Well done, son. I knew you could do it."

"Thanks, Dad," he managed, hardly tearing his eyes from Nikki, who embraced little Jim. "I owe you. My job's going well, let me pay you back for your help buying my apartment."

"Today's about you, not me." Dad shoved Donald out into the audience, then strode past me without a glance.

Though I wished he'd have at least made eye contact with me, just to show that he least mentally acknowledged or even recognized me, I was content. I might have lost Dad's love, but he still had some. When he looked at Donald he was the same dad he was before Elaine was arrested. I'd take any proof that my father hadn't been taken along with my sister.

——————————————-_____________
___________________——————————

The party was better than my rather pessimistic self would have expected. Most of Dad's colleagues vanished as soon as the door opened, though not before draining the open bar of enough beer to drown a small army of alcoholics, which they were for the most part.

Nikki and Donald glowed. As they sailed across the floor, Nikki's formal trench coat flowed behind her like a white waterfall. She placed her hand on his cheek and gave her husband a quick peck on the lips. That would have been the first time the dutiful citizen ever kissed her lover.

It wasn't long before I was forced to turn away from the happy couple. Each soft look and gentle caress twisted my stomach. My brother was just starting to learn what I'd known for two years; how warm a loving hug could be, how each kiss made the heart race, how wonderful it felt to be loved. Yet Donald seemed to know something I didn't... the way he looked at Nikki... there was a certainty and openness I doubted was ever held in my eyes. Had Ander ever seen me look at him with the awe Donald showed to Nikki, or the devotion she showed to him?

Would I look at him that way if he walked straight through the double door and wrapped his arms around my waist, somehow hidden from the rest of the world? I wasn't sure, but I'd never know. The Father had far greater things in store for Ander, far greater than I could offer him.

One of Nikki's brothers, a dark haired older man whose name I hadn't bothered to learn, dragged her into a group of three other similar looking boys. They all put their hands on each other's shoulders and swayed, bobbing up and down in some confusing sibling dance circle.

Laughing, Donald made his way towards me. I noted the water bottle he'd snatched, not his typical beer.

"Any word from Ervin?" he asked.

I shook my head. After so long, I'd given up on the job. Why would he give a job suited for men to a woman?

"Dick." Donald leaned against a red chair.

"No biggie." I shrugged, forcing a smile. "Congrats, Peter."

He wrinkled his nose. "You know, I don't think I want you calling me that. Too weird."

I shrugged. "Whatever you want. Your day."

"I mean, I like it when Nikki does it, but it's private, you know? Besides, if more people start doing it, it'll raise suspicion. And I don't want to let go of my life completely. Just nice to know one person won't compare me to Dad all the time. You get what I'm saying?"

"Sort of. Yeah, Donald."

He grinned. "And if I ever decide otherwise, I'll be Peter to you too."

I shook my head, laughing. He was trying so hard to figure out who he was, when he should be worrying about how he could serve the Father. No one in Trujohn cared about a name. People cared about jobs, loyalty, and service. But if Don needed to branch out of Dad's reach, how could I blame him?

"Oh, and Mom told me to tell you that you look beautiful," he added. "I would've said you look like a pigeon, with that silver lacy trench coat, but I'm feeling sentimental. And Nikki picked the outfit so I have to assume it's nice."

I sighed. Would it have killed her to tell me herself? All day I'd be trying to meet her gaze, only for her to turn away. "Thanks. And Nikki went easy on me. I'd rather look like a pigeon than a flamingo."

Before Donald could respond, my tablet vibrated in my pocket. My hand flew to the device before I remembered that this was Donald's day. And Mom might pretend I was invisible, but she'd be furious if I was on my tablet during my brother's wedding. I was better off ignoring it for now.

Because what if it was bad news?

What if I didn't get the job?

What if Ander is instatexting me? He wouldn't risk it unless it was important. What if he saved Elaine!

Or what if he couldn't?

"What's the matter?" Don frowned.

I shook my head. "My tablet buzzed. No biggie. I'll check it later."

"Yeah right." He snorted. "What if you got the job?"

"Ervin's like a week late—"

"It's Ervin. I'd call this early." Donald snatched my arm. "Come on. Out of the way of everyone else."

He dragged me through the rapidly thinning crowd and past Mally, who chased frantically after Jim. Don led me down a narrow corridor outside the main hall, and only paused once the music became indistinguishable. "Read it."

Biting my lip, I pulled out the tablet. It opened instantly, scanning my face for security. It would only open for me, Dad, or any Patri member. I clicked the notification, swallowing. "Message from Ervin."

"Told you." He flashed a grin. "Baby sister's going to be a Carthowa Professor."

"Assistant," I corrected. "And it could be a rejection."

Don snorted. "You think an ass as lazy as Ervin would bother to send you a message saying no?"

I shot him a glare and opened the message, breath racing. If I didn't get it... would I seriously need to live with Donald forever? "Jean, I've interviewed a few other candidates and although they'd naturally be the best options, they are incompetent when it comes to following instructions, and that's being friendly. I guess it isn't in a boy's nature to fetch coffee. So, while I really searched for a better option, that invitation only class starts on Monday and I'm not dealing with a bunch of kids without someone to fill my cup. Congratulations, dolly, welcome back to Carthowa. I expect you to be in my office by seven A-M Monday morning."

I stared at the words, rereading them over and over. It was a miracle. He'd actually picked me? Ervin?

"What did I tell you?" Don smirked. "Forget Summa cum laude, I think we know who the real genius is."

Even in shock, I managed to roll my eyes. "Not sure, but I wouldn't pick the one who ditches his wife on her wedding day."

Don's eyes went wide. "Shit, Nikki!" He turned on his heel and raced back to the main hall. "Congrats, Jeanie!"

My smile never left my face. I'd done it. I'd gotten the job. I'd gotten the job Ander had chosen for me... My smile faded. The job was only available because Ander was gone, trying to rescue my sister and chasing his dream. I could only hope to make him proud, but then again, I didn't need to. Ander wasn't like Dad, he didn't need to be constantly impressed. But still, if he selected this position for me, then I would damn well excel.

((Yes, yes, I know. Bad Kay. Bad Kay. I swear I haven't forgotten about Jeanie, and I'm super excited to introduce a bunch of new characters. I hate making excuses, but I'm SO close to finishing the first Crown of Thorns novel, that I haven't had any motivation to leave the Arcana for Trujohn.

But I wanted to give you something. Sorry, it's not even editing, but if I waited much longer it would end up being weeks I'm sure. So enjoy, and please, drop any predictions you might have.

Thanks,
Hail our Great Fatherland))